The Destruction of Lip Gallagher
by walkingdisaster6
Summary: Lip has never been known to ask for help but this time, he desperately needs it. Mature content, dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I couldn't have been the only one thinking it but there seems to be a huge lack of Shameless fanfiction. Get working on that people.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Destruction of Lip Gallagher

Lip just has something about him, it could be his sexy ass hair or the way he could speak words to me and I couldn't understand a damn he said. Whatever it was, when his sister invited me to her weird sleepover, I knew this would be my chance to finally meet him. But not just to meet him, I know who I am. Holly, the retarded slut who hadn't made it past the fifth grade. I knew Lip had a thing for Karen, another girl with a slutty reputation but that wasn't going to stop me.

"So it's either the original Nightmare on Elm Street or The New Guy," Ian, the other brother was saying, holding the two movies in his hands. Ian was a touch more beautiful than Lip but in a boyish sense. I wanted someone who could fuck me as rough and wild as Mandy was being screwed upstairs. I could hear it but it made no difference to me. I knew when my time would come.

_[i]"Jesus," he pants, pounding into her sweaty body as the loose headboard of the bed bangs against the wall.[/i]_

A movie had already been put in when I finally bring my back from upstairs. Little Hank had taken advantage of my distraction and wrapped an arm around me. I glance at him, "Is this really happening?"

He frowns and removes his arm, "Bitch."

"I just know what I want," I glare right back at him. He breaks eye contact, averting his eyes back to the slaughter on the television screen. Ian had obviously chosen Nightmare on Elm Street.

Everyone was asleep. My phone buzzed happily beside me, signifying that it was 3:45 and time to get up. I didn't need the alarm because I hadn't fallen asleep yet, I was too excited. I tip-toe to the bathroom and quickly fix my hair and reapply my make-up.

"Beautiful," I whisper to myself after inspecting my handy work. Satisfied with my appearance, I remove my underwear and throw them in my purse. I was ready.

He was snoring softly in his room, shirt off and a pair of jeans hanging loose off his hips. His phone was clutched in his hand, like he was waiting for someone to call him. I tip-toe across the room and place one of my knees gently on the bed. It creaks quietly but Lip doesn't stir.

I pull my other knee up and over him, straddling his naked flesh under my thighs.

"Mmmm," he mumbles, "Well that was fast."

I bend over and slide my tongue in his mouth. He isn't quite awake though and his body makes no response. I kiss him harder and start to unbutton his jeans. "Shhhh."

He finally tries to engage in my kiss but it is a weak attempt and I stop to shimmy his jeans off his hips. "Karen," he mutters, "Mmmm, Karen."

This makes me freeze. "Karen?" I whisper hotly, "That's who you think it is?"

My voice makes him open his eyes. "What the fuck?" I whip the jeans at his face and look around the room before settling on the lamp on the desk.

Lip holds one hand to his eye, "Holly, what the fuck are you doing in here?" His tone is still sleepy, the only reason I am able to smash the lamp wrapped in a blanket over his head. He crumples back onto his bed, unconscious and vulnerable in just in his boxers.

"Well Lip," I say even though he can't hear me, "I guess I'll just have to do this the hard way."

I kiss him again but move down to his chest, warm and inviting, planting kiss after kiss till I reach the trim of his boxers before he stirs again. A pained moan escapes his lips and he tries to turn away. I grab a dirty sock off the floor shove it in his mouth before pulling the duct tape out of my purse and wrapping it around his head. I manage to get a heavier amount around his arms before his eyes blink open and his begins thrashing. I am on top of him though, and my weigh on his legs is enough to keep him on the bed.

His muffled cries for help can't help but turn me on though, I need him and I need him now. He starts trying to hit me with his bound hands but I stop him and pull them above his head, taping them on the headboard he had so recently fucked Mandy against. It's an awkward angle and it looks like it hurts but I have no time to indulge in the sight as his legs squirm from under me, begging to be freed. I reach towards my purse on the floor to grab the rope but he bucks me off of him and sends me to the floor.

"You asshole!" I scold him. With the rope in my hands, I try and grab one of his thrashing legs but the other one manages to kick me in the face. I fall backwards, dazed, as blood pours from my nose.

Pissed now, I stalk around to the headboard with his arms strapped to it and drape the rope across his neck. We make eye contact for a second as he realizes what I am threatening him with and with new strength he tries breaking free. I wrap the rope around his neck, pull the strings and watch as his eyes bulge out of his skull. They flutter before drifting shut and I release the ropes, immediately checking for a pulse.

After making sure he is alive, I tie his legs to the bed and re-tape his arms. The process takes long enough for him to come around again, but with his legs tied, he can only buck his hips angrily. A wordless scream is quieted by the sock in his throat, he gags, chokes for a second and then quiets. I think for a second he had passed out again but he just stares at me with cold eyes.

"If you think you can guilt me out of this," I say to him as I pull his boxers down, "You're wrong."

His dick is completely limp to my dismay, but I knew that all men were the same. Enough tongue working could make anyone get off, whether they want to or not. I run my tongue along his shaft lightly, he shivers, bucking his hips and crying out in protest but he can do nothing as I go down on him. His face seems conflicted as I pleasure him but his dick is erect now, whatever he was feeling didn't compromise what I wanted.

"Oh, Lip," I touch his face despite his best efforts to turn away from it, "You want me to fuck you?"

He starts shaking his head violently; his screams had turned into harsh noises, the kind animals make when they're in pain. Without the upper hand in a situation, Lip looks young innocent, without his big mouth he seemed just as lost as everyone in this shitty neighborhood. That untouchable beauty seems to drift away from him and all I am straddling is a broken child whose Mommy left him to explore her own sexuality. All I had truly seen in Lip was a glimmer of hope amongst the garbage and shit in this town.

And I had destroyed that glimmer.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm not sure if I should move this to the Shameless 2011 section, oh well. Reviews would be appreciated but if someone wants to post some good ol' Lip whump I would like this even better.

The Destruction of Lip Gallagher: Part Two

I wake from my position on the couch with a start. The house is silent, something rare but it was only because the inhabitances of it were unconscious. Debbie slept curled up against Little Hank; she had tucked herself against him in what seemed like fear sometime during the movie. But anyone who knows Deb is fully aware that she isn't scared by something as trivial as a movie.

I'm happy Fiona finally got her doing something other than that hideous daycare, out from under the pressure of taking care of a dozen children. But hopefully this crush on Little Hank won't last, he may be Carl's friend but honestly, that only made me distrust him more.

After a minute or so of thinking about this, I realize it wasn't completely silent in the house. There is a familiar tapping, something most teenage boys can recognize well enough. A headboard knocking against a wall, somebody having sex. But as I listen harder that isn't the only noise. It's faint but I could make out another familiar sound, something me and a few other people would be able to recognize. The sound of someone screaming through a gag.

Being in the closet, I knew all about trying to silence a noisy partner and being me, I knew all about the kinky shit people get off on. But I also knew for a fact that Lip had no real experience with that sort of thing and he much preferred rough sex to any sort of BDSM thing.

I jump from the couch and walk up the stairs, debating whether I should be worried about my older brother. Lip is, for lack of a better word, a genius. He could steal a car, ace the SAT and flip an eighth in less than an hour but with love he didn't think.

But who I am I to talk? I'm fucking jailbait.

So instead of barging in, I place my ear against the door and try to listen.

A girl, probably Karen, was breathing heavily and trying desperately to stifle her moans. Lip's screaming was louder but sounded less garbled. In fact, it sounded more like pleading.

I know the door is locked but can't stop myself from jiggling the door to try and get in. The breathing and knocking of the headboard stops immediately. Lip's pleads turn into my name.

Without thinking, I break the door down with my foot and Holly, who I had failed to notice was missing from the slumber party crashes past me so fast I almost fall over but the sight of my brother freezes me. His stark naked body is tethered to the bed and arms duct taped violently to the headboard, but his face makes me want to vomit.

Lip's eyes were wide and unseeing; a single tear fell and mingled with the blood pouring from his forehead and nose. I knew it was broken without having to touch it but getting the crisscrossed tape off his face was going to be the first challenge.

I wonder for a second if I should call somebody or go after Holly. But I can't leave my brother here and I can't let anyone see him this way. So I pull the pocket knife I keep underneath my mattress out and cut the ropes that held his legs. Staring at the angry lines of rope burn that cut through his skin made me choke down a sob.

"Goddamn it," I breathe and move towards his arms. She had overlapped the duct tape enough to complete immobilize him, getting this shit off was going to be difficult. I slide the blade in-between his wrist and the headboard hoping to get it all off with one quick swipe.

Lip's breathes had doubled though and I could tell he was starting to hyperventilate. I abandon his arms and start ripping off the tape. I had wanted to be gentle about it originally but my brother's breathing was more important to me. I rip about half of it off before I discover the sock I had worn to ROTC training, the sight should've brought a smile to my face the bile and salvia that had soaked in it as I pull it from my brother's mouth killed the humor.

As he catches his breath, I hack the tape off his arms and find an abandoned pair of flannel pants on the floor. I hand it to him and he takes them, hastily putting them before trying to scramble off his bed. He stumbles and almost falls but I steady him.

He walks a few steps before shooing me away and heads for the bathroom. I follow him, afraid to leave his side and watch as he brushes his teeth furiously. He makes no move to shun me but he makes no eye contact and says nothing.

I realize staring at him will do him no good and instead pull the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet. When he finishes rinsing, he brushes off my attempts to sit him on the toilet and clean his wounds, and instead steps into the shower, turns it all the way high and falls to the ground.

The moment is too intimate for me, and I leave but not before noticing the flannel pants still on his body, soaking up the spray of the steamy shower. He didn't seem to notice.

I don't shut the door but I wait outside, wondering what on earth I should do. If I were Mickey, I could just shut out my emotions and do exactly what needed to be done. But Lip was my older brother, with all the answers and the confidence to go with it. Should I call the police? Would they care? What would I say?

The shower turns off and I get up, grabbing some clothing before returning to the bathroom. Lip hadn't moved from his spot in the shower so I pull back the curtains and offer him a towel first. He looks at me, one of his eyes puffy and painful looking, puzzled by my interruption. The sight of the towel seems to snap him out of it though because he takes it and starts drying himself out. I leave again, waiting a fair amount of time for him to pull on a thin t-shirt and sweat pants before returning.

He had pulled out the cigarettes from the medicine cabinet and was proceeding to light one when he looked my way again. "Ian." His voice was hoarse from screaming.

"Jesus, Lip."

"This never happened," he told me firmly, taking down half the stick in one long drag. He closes his eyes, "You can't say a damn thing about this."

"What about Holly?" I blurt out, red hot anger boiling in my blood, "If I can't tell anyone, can I beat the shit out of her?"

"She's a fucking fifth grader," Lip retorted, "Doing anything will rain shit down on us."

I step towards him, a little too fast, he jumps.

Slowing down, "I need to reset your nose." It's all I can say without screaming. Without looking at his ankles, it looked as though he had gotten into another one of his fights. No one would question his injuries, not even Fiona. Letting this slip under the rug would mean nothing had changed, that Lip wasn't hurting.

I snap his nose back in place; he grunts but swallows the pain. Lip was hurting, he would be hurting. And he expected me to go about like nothing ever fucking happened. Holly would get away with this.

Lip pulls out another cigarette, lights it and inhales deeply. He shudders. "Tobacco ain't doing it for me."

He stubs it and walks back to our room, opens a few drawers before settling on something and pulling it out. With a small bag of pot, he sits on my bed and offers me a seat next to him. I take it without commenting on the way he was avoiding the duct tape mess on his bed.

Packing the bowl with nimble fingers, he tries to explain what happened, "I was sleeping, waiting for Karen to call."

He offers me the bowl but I refuse, Lip shrugs and lights it himself. On the inhale he explains in a sunken voice, "She probably won't call…"

This statement makes me nervous; Lip doesn't normally involve pessimism in his love life. Karen was the one thing Lip couldn't have and god, he wanted her bad. I watched as Lip got high, wondering if this incident would be put behind us or if it would blow up in Lip's face. Either way he was brother and I would help him as much as I could.

The front door slams and it seems Fiona is home. Was it fair to not tell her? Lip was plenty old enough to take care of himself and even though she claimed to not be our mother, her advice was something we had all asked for at one point.

I glance back at Lip to find he had fallen asleep, the bowl still burning in his hand. I take it from him and suck in some of the smoke. I had never really been much of a pot smoker but Lip couldn't keep his hands off it. He preferred being stoned at all occasions, sometimes smoking all of his product in the ice cream truck before customers would come.

I pull a cover over Lip's limp form and decide to clean up the mess on his bed. There's some blood on the sheets so I strip them off, and head for the laundry room to throw them in. Fiona was in the shower and the kids were still sound asleep on the couch.

I can't help but feel lonely in this house though, I needed to tell somebody what had happened before the words escape my lips at the wrong moment. Without thinking I call Mickey, forgetting the early hour.

"Ian, what the fuck?" his voice is weighed down by sleep. I can see him now with his hair mussed up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"I need to talk to you."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Switched to this section, there seems to be more activity. I haven't written fanfiction in years, it's really good to get back in the saddle again. Reviews would be nice, Lip fiction would be nicer. (:

The Destruction of Lip Gallagher: Part Three

I can't help but be pissed when I finally get around to meeting Ian. It's hard pretending to not be interested in someone when they were your entire world. And sure, I fucking hated the Gallaghers but I loved Ian more than I loved anything, which meant I would never be rid of them.

Here I was, sucked into another Gallagher problem but this one wasn't worth my time. I hated being the listener. If I couldn't beat the problem's head in, I was best left on the sidelines. Which is fine, I preferred it. Emotions are something no hood rat wants to face because bottom line was that everyone lives sucked, some more than others. The best you can do to survive in the world is try not to drown in everyone's problems, try and separate yourself from it.

Ian's family was nothing but problems.

The house is rampant with little children. I don't even need to knock on the door, instead I slip in as a couple drop off their brat. I give Deb, the other ginger in the family, a small nod but her reaction is something between disgust and confusion. The Gallaghers don't really like me either.

Ian is up in his bedroom, pacing, when I enter. He glances my way but doesn't greet me.

"So why'd you call"- he interrupts me by slamming his body into me. It takes me a second to realize it's a bone crushing hug and not assault.

"Lip was raped," he mumbles into my shoulder.

I grab him by the shoulders, making fierce eye contact with him. "What the fuck?"

"Last night," he blurts, "Deb's sleepover- I wasn't paying attention- I fell asleep- it's really my fault, I should have been supervising or some shit"-

"Shut the fuck up, Ian," I moan. If there's one thing Ian was good at, it was talking. He fucking loved to talk, and would do it all day if talking with me wasn't like talking to a brick wall that only knew how to swear.

"You don't understand," Ian shakes his head, "He doesn't want me to tell anybody!"

"Goddamn, he couldn't have picked a worse person to tell that sort of shit to."

"He didn't really have a choice, I was the one to find him," tears fill Ian's eyes but he rubs them away.

I pull him back into the hug, "Well, I'm sorry you had to see it, Ian but…," I hesitate but decide to say it anyways. It's not like I was aiming to be boyfriend of the fucking year. "You gotta' let this go. The more you focus on it, the more Lip will focus on it and the more likely he'll turn into a fucking mess."

"You're being an asshole," Ian shakes from me, "What does someone have to do to be justified to cry in this fucking world? How can you guys just go about your days like nothing is wrong?"

I shrug, "If I were to stop and cry or whatever for every bad thing that happens in my life, I'd run out of fucking tears."

"LIP!" Someone screams from downstairs. "WHERE THE FUCK IS LIP?"

"Karen," Ian rolls his eyes. We get about halfway down the stairs before Karen, pissed but still hot as hell, meets us.

"Where is Lip?" she questions impatiently. I wonder where Lip is too.

"Why?" After what happened last night, I knew he was feeling mighty protective of his older brother but honestly I wanted out of the Gallagher mess pronto.

"Just tell her, Ian," I insist.

"Probably the ice cream truck, he was gone before I woke up," Ian admits. "Why?"

"That pussy sent your sister to go fuck my fiancé!" she stabbed her finger into my chest with the word 'your', like I had control over what happened because we happened to be blood related.

"He really wasn't thinking clearly…" Ian started but Karen would accept this as an answer. For a petite blond, she raged with the rest of this neighborhood when angry enough. I tried to imagine her back in her dark period with the inky black hair and piercings. It's a little easier to remember as I watch her argue with Ian.

Karen stalks away finally. "You wanna' go get some breakfast? I'll buy," I try and butter him up, maybe with enough sweet talk he'd get out of his shit mood and fuck me. But probably not.

"I'm worried about Lip," he ignores my offer, "Maybe I should get to him before her."

"Ian, this isn't your problem!" I snap at him, "Lip said he doesn't want anybody knowing what happened. He made the right choice. Sweeping this shit under the rug is best for everyone. Let's just go get some damn coffee!" And fuck. But I don't say that.

"Fine, whatever," he responds, heated. "If no one wants to fucking care, why should I?"


End file.
